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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122441">maybe this time will be different</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lame_Writer/pseuds/Lame_Writer'>Lame_Writer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Childhood Trauma, Depressing, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Fake smile, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, I swear I'm trying, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, I'm really trying, I'm trying my best, Oneshot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Random &amp; Short, Random story, Severe Depression, Short, Short Story, Trauma, oneshots, severe anxiety, short and sweet, vent - Freeform, venting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:14:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lame_Writer/pseuds/Lame_Writer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>maybe this time will be different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The echoes of paranoia and anxiety rumbled in my mind as I stand towards the door to the classroom, it seemed to be a paralyzing fear the stuck me in place as the door led to uncertainty taunted me silently. Sucking in a breath I take the last moments glance to my side and look back to the gateway, while my urge to run was persistent; however, I shuffled my feet forward like cinderblocks across the floor and leaving a trail from the spot I had held myself down to with the screaming fear weighing on my shoulders. The new faces, the new people it was horrifying and not knowing what would happen next was flooding the possibilities of being hurt once again fresh in my mind. </p>
<p>‘Maybe I should just leave, they wouldn’t care anyway’ my mind pondered with the smallest glimmer of hope starting to form. Biting my tongue as I keep my head down and make my way to the side of where everyone’s eyes never wandered to avoid the risks that rang in my head every second, ringing like car alarms as my heart began to beat faster. Hands shaking and clanking like silver spoons held by loose wrists as I feel the anxiety rushed through me. Everyone felt so at ease with everyone else despite possibly only meeting that day only maybe I ask more questions internally. Struggling to keep my head above water for years, sinking down under faster and faster, my lungs gripped harder than an iron fist. </p>
<p>Their smiles seemed real but I’d be lying if I said that I feared them to be fake, filled with the intent to hurt. Staying in the background to try and find a way to get past all of the falling obstacles that left me trapped no matter how many times they stacked onto each other or fell around me like toppling dominos in the attempts to leave me in the darkness of my anxious thoughts. The floor cracking with each step I took, hearing even the tiniest splits and cracks of the glass floor under me that one wrong step it would break and swallow me whole in the darkness of the which I was unaware of what as underneath. each step is one of hesitation, every flinches and jerk out of sudden anxiety and fear of falling, the fear that if I fell more than I already had I would never be able to go back.</p>
<p>‘You can trust me’<br/>
‘Why don’t you trust me ?’<br/>
‘I care about you’<br/>
‘I worry about you’<br/>
‘I’m worried about you’</p>
<p>The remembrance of the past would bring their silhouettes behind the people, reminding me that I don’t know who to truly trust, the people that still haunt me after years of being free of them. Keeping myself in an embrace because I know no one else will, keeping my head down so I could just disappear from the crowd, under the radar, out of sight out of mind. </p>
<p>Then brought back here, people greet me when they see me, happy when I speak and treat me like a close friend they knew for a long time. Their smiles genuine and their care is real, being kind to me something I haven’t experienced in a long time. Comfort me when my tears unintentionally slip out and say they love me, it seems so real as they appreciate my existence. Holding their hands out to help me, be my true friends, be there for me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe this time will be different.</p>
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